Through out years of knife use and collecting, I've not come across hardly any folks outside various internet venues, who know much about blades beyond their basic and intended purpose, to cut something.
To a varied degree, many of my male friends over the years have been intrigued by blade lore as presented by me, in random conversation. Most are keen to see and handle various knives I might have on hand as my preferences are far removed from the common blister pack out door store fare that is so commonly purchased and thus a curiosity. But, I would not claim to have converted any of them to go out and find out, for themselves, what plethora of makers, styles, aesthetics, applications, and functionality exists beyond typically convenient mass production offerings.
I've never dated a woman who showed the remotest interest in anything related to knives other than needing something in the kitchen and appreciating that the edge had been kept sharp.
However, my girlfriend and partner in life these days, and likely we will end up in marriage together, is very tolerant of my edged implement focus. Numerous knives are scattered around the house - by the bed, under the couch, on tables and counter tops, in closets and drawers, backpacks and my car. She has seen me out in the woods w/ all sorts of steel and in many sizes. Chopping, hacking, carving, slicing, food prepping, foraging, sharpening - she is (now at least) unfazed by most of this.
But, still, she is largely removed from the topic. While I don't need her to behave as I do, she remains interested when I talk of such things, out of consideration for me only. Which is great, really. I can live w/ that over the alternative - the conditioned fear of inanimate objects that society has labeled as dangerous.
Yet, something happened this summer that sets a benchmark for me, for knives in general, in my time running around mountains and deserts w/ knives in tow. She picked up one of my Fiddlebacks, a Lady Finger in green and brown burlap, black pins, w/ lime green and black liners and said, " This is a cool knife." I had not shown it off or made any effort to say anything about it. Just happened.
She was moved by a Fiddleback and it's outright amazing aesthetics. I have thought about the moment repeatedly, especially in the reflective season of Autumn, as I ruminate over the passing of another summer.
Thank you Fiddleback Forge and all who work to make the fine and elegant tools that pass out of your doors. Your work was the impetus for creating some connection between myself and another human being. Not a barrier, but a bridge.
In my humble opinion, that truly is high creation and art.
Thanks for reading and good Fall day to all.
To a varied degree, many of my male friends over the years have been intrigued by blade lore as presented by me, in random conversation. Most are keen to see and handle various knives I might have on hand as my preferences are far removed from the common blister pack out door store fare that is so commonly purchased and thus a curiosity. But, I would not claim to have converted any of them to go out and find out, for themselves, what plethora of makers, styles, aesthetics, applications, and functionality exists beyond typically convenient mass production offerings.
I've never dated a woman who showed the remotest interest in anything related to knives other than needing something in the kitchen and appreciating that the edge had been kept sharp.
However, my girlfriend and partner in life these days, and likely we will end up in marriage together, is very tolerant of my edged implement focus. Numerous knives are scattered around the house - by the bed, under the couch, on tables and counter tops, in closets and drawers, backpacks and my car. She has seen me out in the woods w/ all sorts of steel and in many sizes. Chopping, hacking, carving, slicing, food prepping, foraging, sharpening - she is (now at least) unfazed by most of this.
But, still, she is largely removed from the topic. While I don't need her to behave as I do, she remains interested when I talk of such things, out of consideration for me only. Which is great, really. I can live w/ that over the alternative - the conditioned fear of inanimate objects that society has labeled as dangerous.
Yet, something happened this summer that sets a benchmark for me, for knives in general, in my time running around mountains and deserts w/ knives in tow. She picked up one of my Fiddlebacks, a Lady Finger in green and brown burlap, black pins, w/ lime green and black liners and said, " This is a cool knife." I had not shown it off or made any effort to say anything about it. Just happened.
She was moved by a Fiddleback and it's outright amazing aesthetics. I have thought about the moment repeatedly, especially in the reflective season of Autumn, as I ruminate over the passing of another summer.
Thank you Fiddleback Forge and all who work to make the fine and elegant tools that pass out of your doors. Your work was the impetus for creating some connection between myself and another human being. Not a barrier, but a bridge.
In my humble opinion, that truly is high creation and art.
Thanks for reading and good Fall day to all.
